


Witch Hunt

by timahina



Series: ZarcRay Week 2019 [8]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, F/M, Religious Guilt, ZarcRay Week (Yu-Gi-Oh)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 06:46:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18219626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timahina/pseuds/timahina
Summary: The devil had come in all shapes but she hadn’t expected that form to be that of a savior.





	Witch Hunt

Ray failed.

She had put the right dosage in her husband’s tea, brewed and mixed it properly. But of course, he spilled it and did not receive the full dosage as he should have. No, instead he suffered stomach pains and vomiting blood. Priests and healers had come, praying over his body and for the devil to leave the blessed house.

She tried to care for him, pretend she was worried and devoted. And with any luck and prayer, she would have another opportunity to rid herself of her accursed husband and know freedom again. But he had grown suspicious of her and the villagers whispered and gossiped. They had seen her out late in the forest, under the cover of night – what good woman would do that? She always wore a frock of green, the devil’s favored color! How could she be a good Christian if she did that?! She was seen mixing herbs, a form of brewery known only to witches. How else could she have developed these healing powers?

Ray was always reading and writing, subjects outside of the bible and approved texts of the province. She spent her time in the strangest of ways – how could she call herself a good Christian woman? The whispers continued but no one had any such evidence, only gossip. How could they even accuse her when her husband was the town magistrate, blasphemy itself!

And worse yet, the final strike against Ray. In his feverish state, the front of his shirt stained with blood and his brow covered in sweat, he raised a bony finger at her and his eyes were wide. “A witch!” He cried out! “She sent the devil to my home!”

The accusation was enough.

Ray knew exactly what would happen, could see it in the eyes of the healers wiping the blood away from his mouth as priests threw holy water around the room, splashing some on her as though she would shirk away, and her skin would burn from the contact alone. It was the ramblings of a madman – she wanted to exclaim. He was sick and hadn’t any idea what he was saying!

He wasn’t trustworthy and shouldn’t be taken seriously.

But the look in their eyes… their suspicion and intensity and animosity burned brightly against her. Ray simply nodded, smiling as innocently as she could as she walked over and cleared the nightstand of the dirty cups. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen… I must clean house.” The suspicion burned into her back as she walked away. She had left the room and made her way to the kitchen, doing her best to keep her breathing steady as she dropped off the dirty dishes in the sink and played the part of the dutiful wife. It was one thing to be accused of attempting to murder her husband, that she could’ve handled.

A quick flutter of her lashes and tears in her eyes would soften the heart of the toughest judge in the county. But the accusation of witchcraft? No, that was a death sentence. She’d remain safe so long as her husband was ill. She had to keep doting upon him which left her in a bind. If she killed him in his weakened state, she’d be brought to trial. And if he improved, he’d be a star witness and point his accusatory finger toward her in public now.

She had to leave now.

She waited till the priest and doctor left, assuring her that they would be back first thing in the morning and the sternest in their voice as they told her to tread lightly, the conviction in their eyes – she knew what they meant. And so, Ray bid them farewell and not five minutes after they left her property did she pack a light bag with her jewels, grab her dark green frock, and immediately run out of her home.

It didn’t matter that she was leaving her rich husband who pinned her to their bed every night or the village she had grown up in. Friends who were jealous she had married such a powerful man and would be more than ready to testify against her when morning came – neighbors who always hated her. It was better to leave the den of vipers before they bit. Too long now she had felt suffocated and the freedom she desperately desired was within her grasp.

But where was she to go?

News of her would travel from village to village – sketches of a young witch with red hair, dangerous and deadly, to chain upon sight and provide no mercy. Ray gulped, shaking as she fell against a tree. If there was a moment to spare, she’d collapse then and there.

Her breathing heavy as she clutched onto her frock tighter against the cold nipping at her.

She hadn’t asked any devil to help her – no demons had arisen to guide her. She merely wanted to leave the control of her fiendish husband, he was the only devil she knew of. “Young Miss?”

Ray nearly screamed, her heart pounding at hearing the voice of an old man. She was certain now; someone had followed her from the village, and this was the last, fleeting moment of freedom she would ever know – just in a damp forest with mud seeping into her shoes and staining her dress. She chewed on her bottom lip, nervously turning around with tears in her eyes. But the old man was unfamiliar.

He was hunched over, tuffs of silver hair peering out from his hood which obscured his face. Whether his eyes were kind, or his expression gentle were unknown to her but in his hands, he held out a peach. “You look famished – here, take a bite.”

Ray nearly sobbed and nodded. “Thank you, um… but I can’t accept such a gift. I must be off.”

“In the dead of night? No, it’s unsafe for such a pretty young woman. I insist you come rest in my home.”

“I’m… I’m not that pretty, sir.” Her eyes downcast as she took a step back, trying to end the inquiry of the old man. “I-I really must be off…”

The old man chuckled, raising his head and earning a gasp from Ray. His eyes were gold and clouded, as though blind. But he merely pointed at them and his clouded eyes staring straight at her, as though he could see straight through her. Beyond her and the trees behind her and even the darkness that surrounded them. “Nonsense, nothing gets past mine old eyes.” Ray waved her hand and saw that his eyes indeed did not follow her movement or was even deterred by it. He pushed the peach toward her, more urgently now and Ray sighed, obligation flooding her as she took from his hand – now just brushing the dirt off the skin.

She could save it for later.

“I’ll walk with you, young miss.”

A compromise and Ray nodded, verbally accepting his proposal. She took long strides, doing her best not to step on any branches or dried leaves to try and keep the old man behind her and put distance between them before he gave up from not detecting her. But somehow. She didn’t think it was possible.

He remained a step of her.

“Who are you running from?”

Did he know of her? Was it safe? “Oh, I’m not running at all – I’m simply traveling to buy some medicine for my dear father.” The words poured out of her as she fiddled with the peach in her hand. No reaction from the old man, merely a nod of the head – a simple acknowledgement that he was listening. And it felt nice that he listened and poke and prod at her tale. The lies flowed so easily from her tongue. “It was rather unfortunate – he’s been ill after eating some bad pig. Can you believe that?”

 The old man grimaced, his lips forming a firm line. “He became sick.”

“Yes, for there was… a witch! Yes, a witch had bewitched the pig!” Ray thought quickly on her feet, doing her best to try and make herself seem like any other townsfolk, doting and quick to blame others. A young woman worried for her father and traveling to buy medicine was a good enough story – hell, the old man might take even greater pity and give her money to buy the medicine.

But the old man grinned, extending his hand and it was the first Ray had seen a large branch like a walking stick in his hand. That… that wasn’t there earlier, she was certain of that. He had nothing in his hands. “I believe you are lying.”

“No, honest! I never-”

He held out the branch in front of her, forcing her to stop walking. “There was a witch, yes it’s true. That I believe. But your father did not fall ill. After all, there is no such thing as an accidental _poisoning_ , Young Ray.” Her eyes widened. Ray dropped her bag immediately, shocked into a stunned silence as the old man who was hunched over suddenly turned around. His eyes were still cloudy but as he removed his hood, he stood straight and taller and the wrinkles etched into his skin smoothed over until he was the appearance of a young man. His gold eyes were still cloudy, but sharper and brighter. “Nothing gets past mine eyes; did I not say?”

Ray took one step back, then two. Then several until she felt a tree in her path and with a single blink of her eyes, the stranger appeared right in front of her. She hadn’t heard him move and to take such a large movement in such a quick moment – who was he?

_What_ was he?

“I…” Ray shook her head. “I mean you no harm, sir.”

He quirked a brow and chuckled. His hand reached out to stroke her frock and Ray noticed how his fingers were longer than her husband’s, than any man she had ever met. And his nails were unnaturally long. Sharp too. “Of course not, I’m not your husband.” His hand moved and he squeezed her left breast, her breath hitched in her throat.

Why did he mention him? How could he know! She tried to deny it. “I-I never s-sai-”

“There’s malice in this heart of yours – embrace it for me. I know you wish to.” His grip tightened and she whined, her nails digging into the tree trunk. She’d complain about splinters in her skin later – she needed only to survive this encounter. She only continued to shake her head, denying such accusations. Denying any hatred or malice. She only wanted to be safe. He spoke lies!

He lifted his other hand and saw the same peach from before – when had he taken it back?

The stranger removed his hand from her breast and scoffed, stepping back from her as Ray slid down the trunk from sheer exhaustion and anxiety overtaking her. “I have no need of innocent, crying maidens. Especially ones who are bold to lie to me.” He hid away the peach in his back pocket, hanging his hood back up over his head as his appearance changed – his voice changing, morphing to that of the old man. “You’ll be found by morning’s light – the last you’ll ever see. Pray to God for forgiveness.”

Ray panted heavily and clutched onto her green frock tighter to herself, his words echoing in her mind. Such familiar words brought her back to the villagers and neighbors she had left behind. They all told her such advice.

_“Pray to God for your selfishness – how do you expect your husband to love you when all you do is complain?!”_

_“Pray to God for your arrogance – you expect kindness when you are not obedient?”_

_“Pray to God for your weakness – men don’t like tears.”_

_“Pray to God for your abundance of luck.”_

_“Pray to God for the love you lack.”_

_“Pray to God.”_

_“Pray.”_

Pray and one day, someone would listen and save her. And each day, she did just that and each day she strayed further from the village and her husband and all the trappings of her life. Needing so badly to escape.

Ray let go of her frock and reach forward, gripping onto the stranger’s cloak – stopping him from leaving her. And when she looked back up, she saw the horns extend from the top of his head and his eyes, still clouded, were now bright and hard to stare at without her own eyesight turning blurred. But she needed to see him. She couldn’t turn a blind eye for another second longer.

She cried out and immediately broke down. “Don’t you understand, I can’t go back! I’d sooner hurl myself into the river than spend one second more with that odious man that calls himself my husband!” The tears flowed freely down her face and her fingers desperately clung to cloak, watching as he removed his hood and the façade of the elderly man fell away. “I failed… and I will _die_ if I go back. There was no one… no one who listened, I had to…!” Her shoulders shook as it occurred to her she spoke of her troubles and her fate to a stranger.

A mythical stranger who should’ve struck fear deep within her heart. But what was one demon compared to the den she had just left? What hope could he take away when she had none to begin with?

“Was the truth so difficult? Are you better now – at ease?” His voice deepened and he crouched down. Her grip on his own cloak loosened when she saw wings extend from his back and horns suddenly appeared at the top of his silver hair. The stranger took hold of her hand, raising her fingers to his lips. He grinned and his sharp teeth gleamed as he bit the tip of her finger, drawing blood. Ray gulped, realizing who and what the stranger before her really was. The devil had come in all forms, but Ray never expected for him to provide a listening ear or to make her utter such truth. And she felt compelled so from his striking eyes. “I can help you live past the morning’s light, Ray. And you’ll find vengeance against your husband – your neighbors who wronged you. Will you accept?”

Her heart raced as she took back her hand, overwhelmed but it didn’t stop the stranger from closing the gap between them and pressing his forehead against hers. His clouded and bright eyes did not ache her so bad. “What do you…” Her breathing was heavy, and she glanced down at his lips, frightful of the fangs hidden away. “What do you wish of me?” His skin was hot against hers – like searing hellfire, branding her skin.

“Oh…” He moved down to her neck, grazing his teeth against her pale neck and she squirmed, feeling herself flush as his hot breath was against her neck and his long tongue licked at her. “I wish for you to be a proper witch, there’s only one way to do so.” His hands pulled at her skirts, his claws scratching at the thin fabric as she wriggled from his coarse touch.

There was fear brewing within her and she was unsure of this devil. If she accepted his offer to become a witch, she’d never be safe no matter where she went. She’d be forever cursed and bear his mark upon her skin. It was a terrible fate and doom would follow her. However, she was already accused of being a witch back home. By morning, they would travel to her house with a rope in hand and weapons in tow to hurt and bound and torture her.

It didn’t matter – she might as well accept his embrace and her role.

“What do I call you?”

The devil grinned, brushing his lips against hers in the faintest of touches. “Call me Zarc. That’s who you pray to now.”


End file.
